Page 32 of Witchy Chick

Then his words registered, and I put a hand over my lips, like that would work to hide me from my shame. “It was an accident,” I started. No, I should take accountability. “I got drunk in a bar, and then this guy was hitting on me, so I kissed him.”

“Drunk in a bar,” he repeated slowly. “So you kissed him. He tastes like one of the caretakers of House Hoar.” He pouted at me. Seriously? “And now I’m going to taste it on my mouth for days before it wears off.”

I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t ask you to kiss me! And why do you have me against a tree? We had a deal!”

He slowly stepped back and released me. “Yes. I won’t kill you.” He stared at me for another long moment before he gave me this deadly smile. “Just him.”

ten

. . .

He turned until he was facing the woods and started walking off, like he was going to leave me there alone. And kill my neighbor.

I lunged after him, grabbing his shirt so he dragged me across a freshly loosened grave. “Wait! You can’t kill some teenager just because I got his dark energy on your mouth! That’s not fair!”

“I can. But I won’t. I’ll kill because he’s a rising force of darkness and evil. I’ll enjoy it because I have his revolting imprint on my mouth.”

“Make another deal with me! It was my mistake! I didn’t know he was nineteen, and I got drunk in a bar, and ended up throwing up in a cab and walking around with a dead robin.”

“That doesn’t help my mouth.”

“Please don’t hurt the innocent ones.”

He stopped walking, instead turning, the fabric of his shirt tearing from my hands as he faced me, towering over me, so physically and energetically powerful that I couldn’t breathe. “Why were you at a bar? Did you want to meet a dark arts practitioner? Were you curious like you wondered about dead things?”

I blinked at him. “No. I got a sandwich.”

“And alcohol. A lot of it. Why? You hardly seem the type to get drunk at all, much less for no reason. And why kiss this person you didn’t know? If you’d known at least his age, you would have restrained yourself.”

“It’s not like I wanted to kiss him!”

“So he did force you?”

“No. I just…” My shoulders slumped, and all the energy went out of me. This murderous stranger didn’t care and wouldn’t understand, but apparently, he needed to know my devastation. My humiliation. “My husband cheated on me. I just wanted to not hurt.”

He was quiet for a long time while he studied me. “You have proof that he cheated?”

What kind of question was that? “Yes.”

“And that sent you into the arms of another man. A dark arts practitioner. Who was at the bar with you. Describe the interaction in full detail, if you will.”

I blinked at him. “Why would you want to hear about him hitting on me?”

“Humor me. Or I could find him and ask him for details.”

I crossed my arms and glared to the side. I was still soaked from the water boarding thing and didn’t want to cooperate with the Teeth, but I wanted him to kill Ray of Sunshine even less. “I went to the bar, ordered a sandwich, talked to the bartender, and then noticed a guy staring at me. He came over, and I noticed how much he wasn’t like my husband. He has a really full beard, and this deep scowl, so I didn’t notice how smooth his face is, how young he was.”

“Dark Arts age people more quickly. It’s a stressful calling, to be sure,” he interjected lightly. “Continue.”

“I don’t know. We talked about stuff, how bad he was at hitting on me, and then I asked him if he wanted to kiss me, and he said he didn’t think I’d like him.” I shrugged. “In retrospect, I was already very drunk. I said I’d kiss him, and then I did, and then he left, totally freaked out after giving me the house flier. Kind of like your reaction.” I touched my lips, hesitantly. “Maybe there’s something wrong with my kissing. I never really practiced before I got married.” That could explain why Clark cheated.

“He’s a dark arts practitioner. The only reason he was at a bar was because he was stalking you. Your inherent magic must have called to him. He would become much stronger after he took your life and your magic, but you distracted him with your drunken charm, your human connection, and he’s young enough that he lacked resolve when it was time to go in for the kill.”

I stared at him. “Ray of Sunshine isn’t like that.”

He raised a brow, pale in the moonlight. “Ray of Sunshine? I can smell him on your skin. You’ve gotten much closer. Perhaps it started as a drunken whim, but now it’s much more.”

“He’s nineteen! You think I’m going to seriously pursue a child? You don’t know me, so I’ll try not to be offended by that.”